* * *
Up on the plateau the spiders, under Arachne’s direction, began to weave silken coverlets for Athena. This particular piece of weaving showed in magnificent detail the ill doings, debaucheries and philanderings of the gods.
Athena wouldn’t be tearing this one up in a hurry, though.
Throughout the marble halls of the gods, covers were spun. Soft as down. Strong as steel. It was all going according to plan . . .
Except for Hermes. The rest of Olympus might be sleeping off their labors against the balloon fleet, but Hermes was occupied in taking advantage of Poseidon’s wife, Amphitrite. Free, those two could wreak havoc. Hermes was definitely part of the pyramid’s schemes. And they were pursuing their pastime with godlike vigor and stamina, showing no sign of giving it a rest.
“We need to do something!” whispered Liz to Jerry.
“Uh. Film it and make a fortune in the porno industry. I didn’t think that position was possible!” Jerry couldn’t help staring.
She suppressed a snort. “I meant to capture them. Voyeur.”
Jerry looked thoughtful. “Hmm. Arachne. Could your spiders sew a sort of bag or trap at the window? I could scare them into it.”
Liz chuckled. “What? By saying boo?”
“More or less,” he said. “Can you do it, Arachne?”
“My spider-sisters are already busy, Doc.” She’d picked up her manner of address from McKenna.
“Right. Tell me when you’re ready.”
They didn’t have long to wait. When it was ready Jerry started giving orders. “Cruz. You’ve got the deepest voice here. That’s blue-eyed Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon, on the job there with Hermes. Poseidon is infamous for his bad temper. I want you to bellow ‘Amphitrite’ at the door.”
“That’ll never work, Doc!” protested Cruz.
“It will when I add Pan’s panic spell to it,” said Jerry calmly. “Just you watch.”
Cruz shrugged. “All right. I wish like hell Prometheus was here. But he’s got to deal with the guards on the way up.”
“I did that!” growled Bes, in an injured tone.
“Great! So why did we risk our necks on spider-web parachutes?” demanded Mac.
The dwarf shrugged in his turn. “Well, Prometheus and I thought it was crazy. But you seemed so set on it that we didn’t have the heart to stop you.” Bes’ tone was apologetic. “Anyway, Prometheus said something about you being ‘backup.’ ”
“Here, dear. My sisters have brought Poseidon’s trident. When Cruz calls out, stick that in through the doorway.”
“Okay, on the count of three.”
“One, two, three . . . AMPHITRITE!!!”
The result of Cruz’s shout, coupled with Pan’s spell, fulfilled all of Jerry’s hopes.
Poseidon’s reputation was particularly foul. Amphitrite shrieked. Hermes, assisted by panic, was not going to be caught. Clutching Amphitrite, he dove through the window. Into the spider-web bag. The sticky spider-web bag. Soon the two were safely bundled up.
Just then Prometheus arrived, slightly out of breath.
“Not having any trouble, are we? Everything gone according to plan?” He turned, pointing. “I brought us some company. This is Gaea’s last child, Typhoeus.”
Everyone tried not to flinch. Typhoeus made Medea’s dragons look like earthworms. He had three heads and at least a hundred ever-working hands. Vipers sprouted from his back.
” ‘Ullo,” he croaked. “Seen that little bastard Zeus anywhere?”
“He’s back there.” Lamont pointed. “But don’t you think you’d better deal with the watchman on the pinnacle? Sooner or later he’ll come down. Spider webs can be cut, y’know.”
Prometheus chuckled. “Very well. Will you guide us then, Lamont?”
* * *
Liz sighed. “Well . . . we should be able to get home. Did you see that Hermes was also wearing a pyramid pendant?”
“No. I didn’t notice,” admitted Jerry.
“Distracted, were you?” Liz teased.
“Um. The light was bad.”
Liz pointed at the sky. “Well, it’ll be morning soon. The moon is nearly down.”
Something about that troubled Jerry. “It’s a beautiful moon,” he said.
“Don’t you mean—romantic?” asked Liz mischievously.
Jerry slapped his forehead. “Selene!”
“Selene?”
“The moon goddess! She’s out at night!”
* * *
And so she was, just touching down with her moon-bearing mule. Any moment now there was going to be trouble—as soon as she’d tied up her mule.
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